Fair Wages
by M. the Inspector
Summary: Arya and the Hound really do consider sticking around in some village. Because clearly the two of them together has Happy Home written all over it... (Season 4 canon divergent)


**A/N: So psyched it's almost time for the new season! Here's a little Hound&amp;Arya oneshot.**

* * *

By the afternoon it was too rainy for work to go on, so the men left the wall half-repaired and went home early to their huts.

_Their _hut hardly leaked this time; Arya had spent yesterday climbing around on the roof repairing all the broken parts.

The Hound held his hand out as if checking for rain, and nodded at her. "Nice," he said. That was it, and then he went off to a corner to work on sewing up his shirt again. He only had the one, and these days it was mostly patches.

"And I got a rabbit today," she announced. "I'll cook it in a minute." It still annoyed her that nobody would pay her to do men's work or even boys' work, but she was finding ways to pull her weight anyway.

"Don't burn it."

"I'll burn _you_," she shot back without thinking. But he only froze for a moment, before snorting at her and going back to what he was doing.

Before long the hut was warm and smelled like food. It would be behind a wall before too long, but even now it was under the protection of one of the best fighters in the Seven Kingdoms. She realized she hadn't been this close to content since before she'd left Winterfell.

"Let's stay here," she said suddenly.

The Hound huffed. "I look to be packing my bag?"

"No, I mean-... I mean forever." She bit her lip. _Shit._ She shouldn't have said anything. But now she had, and he was giving her a strange look, and she found herself babbling. "I mean we're safe here, nobody knows who we are, people all just think I'm your daughter. We could just... pick new names, and-"

"I don't need a bloody daughter," he growled.

That stung a little, but she supposed she understood. Everybody knew daughters were nothing but trouble. "I could be your sister, then."

"Don't need a bloody sister, either. Shut the fuck up." That stung more than a little and she was quiet, and eventually the Hound heaved a sigh. "I had a sister," he explained. "My brother drowned her when we were small. That's sister enough for me, I think."

"Oh-. Sorry." She hadn't known that. She really _was _sorry, but still, she had to think of something - some way to keep him sticking by her side. Family was really the only way she knew.

Well. Maybe there was one other thing she could try. "I could be your woman," she offered. The Hound stopped sewing and turned to face her head-on, with a look more incredulous than when she said she might try and join the Second Sons with him. "What? I _could,_" she insisted. "I already cook and clean for you, and I could learn the rest. I'm certainly old enough to fuck."

"Old enough to-? The hell you are! Who told you that?" he demanded. "Has somebody been fucking you?"

He sounded almost angry. She shrugged. "Not yet. Some have tried, but I always just stab them and run away."

He nodded. "Good girl." He made to pick up his needle again but she was still looking at him, and finally he sighed and gave up. "What's all this about? Hm?"

Might as well just say it - he'd respect her more than if she tried nancing around it. "I don't want you to leave me."

He sat back in his chair. "Well I'm not leaving you tonight," he said. "Or tomorrow. Now bring me some of that - it smells good."

* * *

In the middle of the night he woke up to the noises of someone bumbling around the hut, and he was on his feet with a dagger drawn even before he'd rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Sorry," the girl whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."

_Liar_. When the girl really wanted to be quiet she was. She'd disturbed him on purpose, probably because she was still annoyed that he had no plans to bloody adopt her. As is making his life hell would be a good way to change his mind!

The fire was dying so he couldn't see much, but it looked to him like the girl was dressed. A glint of something said she was armed as well. "The fuck you doing?" he said.

"Packing. I'm leaving. I'm going away," she added, as if he didn't know what _leaving _meant. "I won't be coming back."

He snorted. "The hell you are. Go to sleep, girl."

"No."

"You're not going anywhere. You know you have it good here."

"Except for the company."

He snorted. "We've had this talk - your other options are what, exactly? You going to go it alone?"

"Maybe. Or I'll find someone else."

Fucking women. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think what the fuck she thought she was doing. "There _is _no one else, girl," he told her. "I'm the last friend you've got."

"I'll find somebody who'll take me - I can kill people _and _I can keep house." She shrugged a bag up over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips. "Aren't you going to come say goodbye to me? I'm the last friend _you've _got, too."

He scowled at her. "Fuck off," he said, and went back to bed.

He heard her bustle around a little longer. He heard her hesitate by the door. He heard her leave.

He cursed to himself a little and dozed off again.

He woke up a few minutes later, and she hadn't come back, and he thought about her and suddenly knew that she really wasn't going to.

* * *

The moon was bright and she hadn't had much head start, but he didn't know which way she'd gone - which road she'd taken or even if she'd forgone roads entirely and loped off through the forest like the little wolf bitch she was.

It was almost dawn when he finally found her, soaking wet and trying to hide from him in a clump of soaking wet bushes. If she hadn't sneezed he might never have found her at all.

She hissed and fought when he dragged her up on his horse. Snarled to let go, insisted that she didn't need to be rescued. He just laughed and tightened his hold, and asked her if it felt much like a fucking rescue.

* * *

After they dismounted he dragged her along to help with the horse, and then shoved her ahead of him by the neck all the way into the hut.

She heard the door slam and bolt behind her, and then the clanging leathery commotion that was the Hound undressing. "Get in the bed," he growled. "Clothes off."

She turned in surprise. Did he want her for his woman after all? But when she'd suggested it he'd sounded so-...

He heaved a huge exasperated sigh. "Anything wet. I don't give two shits about the rest."

He was soaked to the bone and stripped completely naked. She was too, but there was at least a dry shift she'd left behind and she put that on, with her back to him, feeling silly.

By the time she was dressed he was in bed, holding the covers up with one arm. "Get in."

He must be cold, she decided. She was too, but she knew better than to suggest building up the fire when the Hound wanted to relax. She climbed in beside him, even though the bed was not quite big enough for them to share. (They'd learned this on the very first night, and since then Arya had slept on the floor. Except for nights when the Hound was too drunk to mind switching places.).

"Um. How do you want-"

"Shut up," he snapped. He manhandled her onto her side and crushed up behind her, holding her tight to him with one huge smothering arm.

She wriggled and squirmed, until he snarled _stop moving._ She asked about changing positions and he just told her again to shut up.

Eventually she started really fighting, and managed to face him and rise up on one elbow. "Can I please go lie on the floor?"

"No."

She swatted his hand away when he went to pull her back down. "I can't sleep like this."

"Should've thought of that before you went and ran off."

She stared at him. _That_ was why he wouldn't let go of her? It was absurd... and unfair. "_I'm_ the one who wanted to stay with you," she reminded. "You're the idiot who didn't want me to."

He ignored her.

"Look... let go. I'm not going anywhere." He didn't let go. "I promise. You can tie me up again, all right? Like you used to do when you first kidnapped me."

He made a face, like she'd said something he didn't like, but he let her get up and go get some rope. He tied her wrists - every bit as tight as he had at the beginning - and let her lie down on the floor by the bed.

She wasn't _too _put out, really. She had a blanket at least, and now that the hut wasn't leaking the floor wasn't so bad to lie on. And the rope was only going to be temporary - it hadn't taken him long at all to start trusting her the first time, and leave off with the tying at night. She expected it wouldn't take long for him to start trusting her again.

"Happy?" he growled. "Now nobody's leaving anyone. Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep."

She made a face at him. "Good night to you too."

* * *

**The End.**

**Let me know what you thought!**


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